


Domestic Bliss

by palominopup



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 19:23:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17249948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palominopup/pseuds/palominopup
Summary: A day in the life of our favorite married couple.





	Domestic Bliss

**Author's Note:**

> This is my New Years gift to my lovely readers. Another year has passed and you are all just as important to me as ever. We've had laughs and tears, both in my stories, in our conversations, and in our real lives.
> 
> May the coming year be happy for each and every one of you. 
> 
> This fic came about because StellaDupree spent the weekend with me and we both wanted a story about real marriage. I hope this makes you laugh. 
> 
> This work is un-betaed. Any mistakes are mine and mine alone.

The alarm was grating to Cas’ ears and he grumbled and shoved at his husband until Dean reached across him and turned the harsh buzzing sound off. “You could do that yourself, you know,” Dean mumbled somewhere to the left of his neck. Cas grunted and settled back in for another ten minutes of sleep.

“I’m getting into the shower.” Cas sighed. Dean said the same thing every weekday morning. Was there a need to repeat it? Didn’t he think Cas was smart enough to get that? Then Dean’s face was in his. “Kiss.” Cas opened one eye. Dean was so close, he couldn’t even make out his features. Which, in the whole scheme of things, was disappointing. He’d hit the husband lottery.

“Morning breath,” he muttered, but lifted his head an inch to smack his lips against Dean’s.

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean beamed at him and bounced out of the bed. God, he hated people that woke up happy. He smiled and dozed off.

A nudge woke him. “Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey.” Grunting again and wishing it was the weekend instead of just hump day, Cas sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He had a nice view of Dean’s beautiful backside as he bent over to pull on a pair of boxer briefs. His eyes swung to the hamper by the closet, where Dean’s dirty clothes from yesterday littered the floor.

“Dean, please pick up your laundry and put it in the hamper. You were standing right by it, couldn’t you just once put it inside it instead of on the floor.

“Nagging is so unbecoming…” Dean said, picking up the offending items and stuffing them into the wicker hamper he’d found at Pier One.

Cas stood and stretched and felt Dean’s admiring eyes on him. To be a tease, he ran his hand down his stomach and tugged at his sac. “Cocktease.” Cas grinned and winked before, he too, made his way to the shower.

After brushing his teeth and shaving, he came out to their bedroom and pulled on his robe. Downstairs, Dean was stirring sugar into his coffee. Because of their addiction to the black gold, the Keurig stood ready and waiting.

Cas popped in a k-cup of his favorite Black Tiger dark roast. He slid his hand over Dean’s ass, still in only his underwear. The half marathon he’d trained for and ran with Cas for charity last month had taken his perfection to a new level.

Dean turned slightly so their hips were touching. “I might have to work late tonight.” He blew on and took a sip from his cup of coffee. Dean preferred a medium roast and Cas detected a hint of hazelnut.

“I will put dinner in the crockpot, so we can eat whenever you get home.” Dean gave him a quick kiss and then took a small ziplock bag from the fridge. “And we’ll need more vegies for Mooch and Jaba.”

Cas took the first amazing sip from his coffee and leaned against the counter watching Dean feed their two long-haired guinea pigs. They had been a compromise. Cas wanted a pet, but Dean was allergic to cats, and with their busy jobs, a dog was out of the question. Still admiring his husband’s butt and muscular bowed legs, he absentmindedly turned off the Keurig. “I’ll pick some up during my lunch hour.”

Both men jogged up the stairs and set about getting ready for their respective jobs. Dean as a detective for the Austin Police Department and Cas as a partner in a nice sized architectural firm. As Cas was adjusting his tie, he heard Dean in the bathroom, his urine splashing in the bowl. Then the loud fart that accompanied it. “The honeymoon is over,” he muttered under his breath. “Dean, could you please shut the door when you…” Another, even louder fart, made him huff.

“You know you love me,” Dean called out over the flush of the toilet.

“And you are so lucky I do,” Cas called out sweetly.

Dean was buckling his shoulder holster when Cas headed back downstairs. He put his cup in the dishwasher and set Dean’s travel mug on the counter. He seasoned the roast and dropped it into the crockpot and then wiped down the counters. He was waiting by the door, car keys in hand, when Dean came down the stairs. “Have a good day, babe. I’ll call you later.”

“Love you,” Cas said against Dean’s lips. He closed his eyes and savored the chaste kiss. Dean pulled back and they took a moment out of their busy morning routine to just look at each other. Cas was the lucky one. “I’ll see you tonight.”

 

 Five minutes from the house, his phone rang. “Hello, Dean.”

“You turned off the Keurig and the water got cold,” he said in lieu of a greeting. Oops. Had he done that?

“I’m sorry, Dean. Perhaps if you would wear a robe or wrap your beautiful body in a shroud, I wouldn’t be distracted.”

“Humph,” Dean growled. “Now, I have to stop at Charlie’s to grab a cup of decent coffee before I get to the station." Dean never had a problem with the stale coffee from the ancient coffee makers at the precinct until Cas turned him on to _the real_ stuff.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Cas soothed. “Would a blowjob suffice?”

“I’ll see if I can suffer through,” Dean teased. “Bye, babe.”

Work was hectic with the design of a new brewery at its deadline. He ran out for lunch to pick up food for their _babies_ and picked up a sandwich at their friend, Charlie’s, coffee shop. Called appropriately, You Nerdy Girl.

Mid-afternoon, his phone rang. “Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, babe, I got a break and thought I’d call and say hi. What are you doing?”

“Working.”

“Duh.”

“If you know the answer, why do you ask that same question every time you call me at work. If I’m _at work_ , I’m usually working.”

“Someone’s got their crabby pants on,” Dean responded, never put off by Cas’ dour moods.

“Crabby pants gives me thoughts of parasites, Dean.”

“Ewwww.” Cas heard someone else and Dean’s answering, “One sec.” Cas shifted ears so he could use his right hand to click open an incoming email. “Hey, babe, gotta go. Remember, I’m gonna be late. Love you.”

“Love you more.”

“Mushy bastard.” Cas smiled and ended the call.

At four, he placed his seal on the final drawings and handed them off to one of the firm’s runners. Then he leaned back in his chair and rolled his neck to ease out the kinks. His eyes were drawn to the framed picture on the right side of his desk. He smiled as he usually did when he looked at it. A wedding picture was hung on the wall behind him, but this picture was more candid, both him and Dean on stage singing Karaoke at his last birthday.

 

 At the house, he took a moment to inhale the wonderful aroma of the pot roast he’d started that morning, before climbing the stairs to change out of his suit. Since Dean was working late, Cas had enough time to hurry back downstairs and bake a cherry pie with some of the cherries he’d got at the farmer’s mark on Sunday. It was cooling on the counter when Dean let himself into the door. “Is that pie? Will you marry me?” He swept Cas into his arms and spun him around the kitchen.

“I don’t know. My ideal man doesn’t leave dirty clothes on the floor and isn’t afraid to fold laundry.”

“Yeah, well, people who wash, dry, and fold laundry all in the same day are most likely serial killers.” He released Cas and bussed him on the cheek. “Gonna go change.”

At the doorway to the kitchen, he turned. “I love you.”

Cas stopped with his hand halfway to a cabinet. “I love you too.” He smiled and disappeared. Cas was still wearing a soft smile when the table was set. Dean stepped into the dining room, phone to his ear. “I swear to God, if we had a sex dungeon, Cas would put throw pillows in it.”

“Asshole,” Cas said loud enough for whomever Dean was talking to could hear him.

Dean grinned and then continued his conversation. “I’ll have to ask the war department, but I’m sure I’m free. Why?” There was a pause and Cas could make out Sam’s voice. Dean really should lower his volume. He was going to be deaf by the time he was fifty. “Sure, I can help. Eileen and Cas can sit around and badmouth us while we work.”

Cas rolled his eyes and sat down in his chair. “Eileen has no reason to badmouth Sam… I, on the other hand…”

“Gotta go, Sam, Cas made pie.” Dean sat across from him and ran a socked foot up his calf. “This looks great, babe.”

“What did Sam need you to do this weekend?”

“They bought one of those prefab forts for the boys and you know Sam, he has no mechanical ability, so he wants me to help him put it together. We’re invited to stay for a family birthday dinner.” Sam’s twin boys would be turning six on Saturday, but Cas knew Eileen was giving them a party for their school friends on Sunday.

“Did you get their gift yet?”

“Fuck.” His foot was back, but higher this time, rubbing his inner thigh. “You owe me a blowjob, so I’ll counter with some sixty-nine action if you come with me to the store tonight.”

Cas cocked an eyebrow. “Sixty-nine…. Hmmmm… I suppose you’ll want me to wrap their gifts too… so that might not be a sufficient trade.”

“Okay, sixty-nine and I’ll raise you the purple vibrator.”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “That’s your favorite… no, for wrapping the presents, I get my choice.”

“You always pick that curvy thing and it gets me off too fast.”

“Do we have enough duct tape for you to wrap their gifts.”

“Fine. You win,” Dean said, throwing up his hands in defeat. Cas hid his smile behind a bite of pie.

“I thought you were dieting.” Dean was worried he was getting a dad bod and had announced he was going on a diet last week. Cas thought he was crazy. The marathon training they’d done was intense and his husband’s body was underwear model worthy.

“I am.”

“You just ate two slices of pie.”

“I wanted three. See… dieting.”

Cas took a call from his partner, Balthazar, after dinner. He sat at the island with his laptop open while Dean cleaned off the table and loaded the dishwasher. He wiped down the counters, and then went into the laundry room, off the kitchen, to toss in a load of jeans. When Cas hung up, Dean swept his hand in Vanna White style. “Table’s wiped off, kitchen is clean, and I started a load of clothes. See, I do help around the house.”

Deadpan, Cas picked up the stack of mail sitting beside him and tossed it in the air. Envelopes and sales papers showered down around him. “Confetti. It’s a parade.”

Dean’s mouth turned into a pout. “I’m seriously thinking of taking back the sixty-nine offer.”

Cas stood up, closed his laptop, and grabbed Dean’s hand, pulling him close. He whispered, “Not a chance.”

 

 The drive to Target was spent talking about Dean’s current case, the rape and murder of a young woman. Dean brought his job home with him sometimes, and Cas had learned early in their marriage to just listen and be supportive. “You should get over in the left lane,” Cas said during a lull in their conversation.

“Target is still a couple of miles away, Cas.”

“I realize that, Dean, but you know how bad traffic gets around the mall.”

“No one likes a backseat driver.” At the entrance to the shopping center, Dean couldn’t get into the turn lane and had to turn around at the next light. Cas smiled knowingly, but didn’t say anything.

At the store, Dean headed for the toy department, while Cas found his way to the personal hygiene area. He grabbed a bottle of Astroglide and some more hair gel for Dean. On his way to the rendezvous spot to meet Dean, he spied a set of scented candles that would look great in their bathroom. He tucked them under his arm and continued toward boys’ clothing.

Dean was already there, holding up matching t-shirts. “What do you think?”

Before answering, Cas unloaded his haul into the cart. He took inventory of the Matchbox Raceway, the Marvel action figures, and the two RC trucks. “I think you tend to go overboard. You’re their favorite uncle, you don’t have to work so hard.”

He frowned at the shirts and hung them back up. Then he gripped the cart’s handle. “Dude, how much did these cost?” He poked at the candles as if they were an alien being.

“They were on sale.” It was a white lie. Early in their relationship, Dean was hung up on the fact that Cas owned a successful architecture firm and made about four times the money he made. He’d gotten better about it, but still balked when Cas bought anything he considered frivolous, unless it was for the twins.

“Yeah, how much?”

“We need them,” Cas said, pushing Dean out of the way and steering the loaded cart down the aisle.

“You know, you’re old enough to know the difference between want and need.”

“Look, that line only has one person in it.” Behind him, he could almost hear Dean shaking his head.

Back home, Dean emptied the bags onto the coffee table and sat on the floor to examine the action figures. “Chris Helmsworth or Chris Evans?”

“What?” Cas asked as he opened the hall closet to find the wrapping paper bin.

“Thor or Captain America. Which one would you choose as your freebie?”

“My _freebie_?”

“Yeah, the celebrity you could boink and I would let you because… well, it’s your freebie.”

“And my only choices are Thor and Captain America? That hardly seems fair. What if I want…” Cas had to think. Dean watched more movies and television then he did. “That sexy man who plays Lucifer. His accent makes me hot.”

“No, that guy’s a douche. You have to pick between Thor and Captain America.”

“I refuse to play your stupid game if I can’t pick whomever I want.”

“Go ahead, take your ball and go home… and while you’re gone, grab me a beer.”

“You have two legs. Get your own.”

“Our love story could be made into a Lifetime movie,” Dean said, an overly dramatic expression on his face.

“I think you mean Hallmark. Lifetime movies can be sad and somewhat depressing.” Dean smirked and Cas picked up a throw pillow off the couch and wacked Dean with it. He did go and get his husband a beer though.

 

With the presents wrapped at a professional level of skill, the two men headed upstairs. In the bathroom, Dean picked up his toothbrush and then glared into his sink. “Did you shave over my sink?”

“Yes, my side of the mirror was foggy.” Cas picked up his own toothbrush and the tube of toothpaste. He squeeze it in the middle and sat it back on the counter. Dean’s eyes widened.

“Cas, you squeeze from the end. How many times do I have to say it. And look at my sink. You didn’t rinse it and I’ve got a coating of facial hair around the drain. Cas peered over and shrugged, before turning on Dean’s tap and swishing the water around. When it was sufficiently clean again, he went back to his own sink.

“Ten seconds.”

“What?”

“It took more time for you to bitch about it than it took for me to clean it.”

“And your point?”

“Just saying.” Cas brushed his left lower molars to the count of thirty. As he made his way methodically around his mouth, he was aware of Dean huffing and mumbling obscenities beside him. When he was done, he tapped his brush three times on the side of the sink and placed it in the holder. “Will you be pouting long? I was promised sexual favors and I will need to know if I have time to read a chapter before we get to it.”

Cas found himself on his back in the middle of their bed being tickled. Their laughter turned to moans of pleasure soon after. They fell asleep in each other’s arms.

 

Morning brought the smells of bacon wafting into Cas’ dreamworld. He stretched and opened his eyes. Glancing at the alarm clock, he saw it was five minutes before his alarm was set to go off. He remembered that it was Thursday and Dean was scheduled for his dentist appointment this morning, so he didn’t have to go into work until later. _Lucky bastard_.

He pulled on his robe and yawning widely, went downstairs. He stopped at the doorway and smiled at his husband’s antics. Music was playing softly and Dean was talking to the guinea pigs. “Jaba, you need to take care of yourself, man. Look at Mooch. His fur is all long and flowing like your Uncle Sam’s and yours… well, let’s face it, your butt is a mess. Did you try to pee on yourself? Or is it truly an accident? This is why your daddy won’t get you a girlfriend. What self-respecting female wants a guy that pisses on himself?”

“His daddy won’t buy him a girlfriend because we do not want to have babies. Not furry ones anyway.” Dean froze and turned around. The talk of children had come up several times over the last couple of years, but Cas had held out. He worried about their careers getting in the way, but with the firm doing so well, he could afford to cut back his hours, especially since they’d hired two more young architects over the summer.

“And non-furry ones?” Dean asked, still frozen in place by the elaborate habitat he’d built their pets.

“I think it’s time for a _non-furry_ one,” Cas said, smiling at his husbands awestruck expression.

“I love you so much,” Dean whispered and walked slowly across the room to stand in front of Cas. He reached out and touched Cas’ cheek and then leaned forward and gave Cas a deep, lingering kiss.

Cas stared into his husband’s eyes and whispered, “I’m the luckiest man in the world and with you as their father, our child will be equally so.”

They kissed again, hands clinging to each other’s bodies. Finally, it was Dean who pulled away. Never one to have chick flick moments, he grabbed Cas by the hand. “Come on, breakfast is getting cold.”

Dean pulled a plate out of the oven filled with scrambled eggs and bacon. Cas made himself a cup of coffee and sat down across from Dean. “I just want eggs this morning,” Cas said, taking a small helping onto his plate.

“No bacon?”

“No, I should keep things light. I’ve got a lunch game of racquetball scheduled with Balthazar.”

“More for me then,” Dean said, pulling several slices onto his plate. Cas ate a few bites of the eggs, all the while staring longingly at the crisp bacon. Dean bought the thick slab style and it looked so good.

He reached for Dean’s plate and his husband popped his hand. No looking up from his meal, he reached over to the chair next to him and lifted… was that…

Dean slammed the grocery store checkout divider down in the middle of the table. “You said you didn’t take that from the store,” Cas said, scandalized.

“And you said you didn’t want any bacon.”

“Asshole.”

“But you love me,” Dean said, winking.

“That I do.” Then he sighed heavily and nibbled on his lower lip.

“Now, who’s being the asshole?” Dean took two slices of bacon off his plate and tossed them onto Cas’.

“You shouldn’t call your baby daddy names,” Cas said, already stuffing his mouth with the salty goodness.

Dean grinned, tossed his napkin at Cas, and went back to eating.

Thirty minutes later, he stood at the door, keys in hand. Dean hugged him goodbye and promised to call later, just like any other day. “Don’t forget to floss before your appointment,” Cas directed.

“Yes, dear.”

“And ask him about that tooth you chipped two weeks ago.”

“Yes, dear.”

“And…”

“Cas, I’m perfectly capable of going to the freakin’ dentist by myself.”

Cas nodded and pecked him on the lips once more before opening the door. He turned as he crossed the threshold. “Dean?”

“What now?” Dean asked, his hand near the top of the door frame, causing his shirt to ride up, exposing an inch of delicious skin.

“Just so you know, I would not put throw pillows in a sexual dungeon. That would be tacky.”

Dean was still laughing when Cas got into his car.


End file.
